


Like Fireworks

by tacewrites



Category: Ouran High School Host Club - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, but here we are, but i needed it out of my system, i don't know when i decided tamaki had a thing for fireworks, seriously i got 5 cavities writing this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-03
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2019-06-04 22:02:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15156530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tacewrites/pseuds/tacewrites
Summary: Tamaki loved fireworks. There was nothing else that filled him with such happiness, such awe, or such fulfillment as watching them light up the night sky. There was nothing else that made him feel like magic was a real and tangible thing that he could grasp, should he just reach out and try.





	Like Fireworks

**Author's Note:**

> Just me doing my part to make sure the Ouran tag never dies. I had this idea in my head for a while and it just wouldn't leave, so that's reason number 56 why I would fight Tamaki Suoh.  
> Hope you enjoy!

Of all the words that had been used to describe Tamaki Suoh and his ideas, “subtle” had never been one of them. Pretty much all of the words that were meant to convey the exact opposite had been, though, and he chose to take them all as a compliment. And why not, when they all made him sound rather grand? His most favorite of them all was “ostentatious”; it just sort of rolled off the tongue, he thought. But that might have been because it was Kyoya who had given him the label, and most things Kyoya said sounded dignified. Maybe it was the glasses. At any rate, Kyoya had used it the very first time Tamaki ever described one of his inspired visions to him.

It was the last day of middle school, and Tamaki had arrived earlier than he normally did, knowing the other boy would already be there. Without so much as a “Morning, Kyoya, how are you?” he launched into a thoroughly detailed and rather long-winded description of what he envisioned as the perfect first Host Club event that they planned to hold when their high school year finally started. Once he finished, Tamaki gracefully fell into the chair at his desk next to Kyoya’s, heaving a dramatically heavy sigh. It was exhausting being so brilliant. But so worth it, he figured, if it worked out. Speaking of which…

“So what do you think?” he had asked his friend, who was still writing what Tamaki assumed were the important details he had just shared with him.

Kyoya didn’t look up. “About what?”

“Kyoya! Weren’t you listening?” Tamaki squealed, affronted by the lack of shared enthusiasm. “The party!”

“Is that what you’re calling this five-course dinner set in a recreation of France complete with an Eiffel Tower?”

“Yes! What else would you call it?”

Finally, Kyoya set his pencil down and closed his notebook. He looked up at Tamaki, an incredulous smile on his face. “Ostentatious.”

It hardly crossed his mind that Kyoya might not have meant it in a positive way. Tamaki almost swooned, the word sounded so romantic. “Thank you,” he sighed dreamily.

Kyoya chuckled and pushed his glasses back up his nose. “Exactly how are we going to make this happen?”

“Oh, I’m sure we’ll manage,” Tamaki replied, still absorbed in the romance of it all. He suddenly sat up straighter. “Oh wait, did I mention fireworks? We need fireworks, Kyoya.”

The smile on Kyoya’s face didn’t disappear, but Tamaki could see that the humor did, and was replaced by something slightly darker, as happened when he pushed his luck, and which always sort of made him fear for his wellbeing. “Come again?”

It didn’t seem so much like a question as it did a warning, but Tamaki pushed through anyway. “Fireworks, Kyoya! They’re necessary. I mean, can’t you just picture it?”

Clearly Kyoya could not. “You have got to be fu-”

“Careful, Ootori,” came the voice of their teacher as he walked into class, sparing Tamaki from whatever obscenities his friend might have thought about subjecting him to in that moment. And as the rest of the students filed in and the teacher started class, Tamaki dreamed instead of listening.

Tamaki had always loved fireworks. The very first time he ever saw them was when he was still quite young and living with his mother in France. As he sat under a tree at the park with her, the first bright, colorful explosion left him filled with awe and a sense of magic that his young mind couldn’t even begin to comprehend. All he could do was sit with wide eyes watching the display, and he wasn’t aware that the moisture on his little round cheeks were tears until his mother asked him what was wrong. Was he scared? Was it too loud?

He had shaken his head to quell her fears, but he really didn’t have the vocabulary to tell her what he was feeling. Even as he grew older, Tamaki couldn’t exactly do it. Despite his self-proclaimed mastery of romantic and flowery language, he believed that even the best of poets couldn’t put this particular feeling into words.

All he knew was that nothing in this world could rival his love of fireworks, and he carried that belief well into high school, much to the distress of Kyoya and the exasperation of their fellow Host Club members.

Especially the most practical among them.

“Have you ever considered the idea that maybe you’re going a bit overboard?”

Tamaki was pulled from his fantasies about exploding colors in the sky to scoff at such a ridiculous question. “No, Haruhi, I haven’t, because I’m not going overboard!”

In response, the girl fell onto the dark red couch in the middle of the Host Club room, sighing deeply, but smiled affectionately nonetheless. “If you say so.” She leaned on the armrest of the couch, getting comfortable. “How much are you planning on spending on fireworks this time?” she asked, humor in her voice.

Tamaki thought for a moment. “Oh, four, maybe five.”

“Hundred?”

“Thousand”

“Oh my god!” Haruhi leaned forward, head in her hands. “I just…I could buy so many groceries with that.”

“Sure, whatever you want, my dear Haruhi,” Tamaki replied, unsure what his girlfriend’s groceries had to do with anything. He walked towards the window facing Ouran’s courtyard and looked out of it, squinting into the morning light. Groups of students filed into the building, laughing and talking together, while pink petals from the trees swirled around them. The scene sort of looked like it was plucked from a fairy tale. Romantic.

But this was no time to be distracted! There was a mission to accomplish, after all. He shook his head a little, and turned back around to face Haruhi, who was still watching him. “Anyway, I can’t wait to tell everyone else about the event. Its going to be magical!”

Haruhi looked up at him. “Am I the first person you told?”

“No, actually, I told Kyoya,” he said, unsure why she asked.

She gave a small laugh. “Oh yeah? And when did you do that exactly?”

He cocked his head to the side, still confused. “I mean, it was before I came here. I called him sometime this morning, I can’t really remember, but it must have been pretty…early.” He froze.

Haruhi’s face lit up. “Early?” she repeated. “How early?”

Tamaki felt a chill pass through him. “Too early!” he squealed. “He’s going to kill me!”

Haruhi shrugged, clearly entertained and not at all concerned about his impending demise. “I’ll miss you.”

“Haruhi, please!”

“You know,” she said, scratching her head exaggeratedly, “with you gone, I could probably be the best host here.”

Tamaki forgot about his worries immediately at the insinuation. “You’re adorable, Haruhi, really, but do you think there would even be a host club without my expertise?” Certainly not.

Haruhi folded her arms and crossed her leg. “What, you don’t think I’m a good host?”

“No, of course not, you’re an excellent host, my Haruhi. I just happen to have had more time to perfect my host skills.” He punctuated this with a toss of his hair. “I mean, no one can resist all this beauty.”

Haruhi smiled wryly. “Is that so?”

“Well of course,” Tamaki replied, moving closer until he was standing in front of her. He winked, then, and lowered his voice. “I mean, it works on you.”

Well only sometimes, if she was in the mood for it. As it was, Tamaki could see a faint blush on her cheeks, but she looked otherwise unaffected. She rolled her eyes good naturedly. “You’re ridiculous.”

Tamaki smiled down at her. “You love me.”

She shrugged and gave a coy smile. “Ridiculous.”

She did. He winked again. “My point is,” he said, backing up a bit, “that for all of your wonderful skills as a host, you just lack the experience. There are things that can always be perfected, you know.”

He turned away, in full ramble mode. “Tricks of the trade, as they say. Of course, our goal is to show our guests a good time. But, there’s nothing like the satisfaction of knowing how to make a guest really swoon, you know what I mean?”

“Yeah, _senpai_ , I know what you mean.”

Well, that was interesting, she never called him that anymore. And not that sweetly either. He turned back around to face her, and found a small smile on her lips, her eyes wide and sincere, almost sparkling.

Haruhi was in Host Club mode.

Tamaki gulped. “Y-you do?”

“Well yeah. You’re a great host. Its always fun to watch you. I…like watching you.” She averted her eyes for a moment, shyly, then met his once more. Tamaki felt his cheeks grow warm. “You should teach me. Please?”

“I don’t-I mean, teach you what?”

“Anything,” Haruhi replied in a hushed voice.

That was really hard to do when he couldn’t form coherent sentences! “Uh, you just…you go and you-um I mean you…you…” Tamaki hid his face in his hands. “You’re really cute!”

Haruhi dissolved into laughter. “Your face is so red! Are you alright? You look like a tomato!”

Tamaki figured he probably did. “You don’t play fair, Haruhi,” he whined, flopping onto the couch beside her.

The girl wiped a tear out of the corner of her eye, laughter subsiding a little. “Serves you right for saying I’m not as good of a host as you.”

“You’re a great host,” Tamaki conceded as he turned toward her, the burn to his cheeks fading.

“I know,” she said with another giggle. “I learned from the best.”

Tamaki felt warm again, but this time it was born out of affection for the girl beside him. “And who would that be?”

“You, you idiot. Even if you do swoon like a-”

Haruhi’s words were cut off as Tamaki kissed her. It was short, but heavy with love and affection that often overtook him when he was around her. He pulled away, blushing again over his own impulsiveness. She had been talking, after all.

“Sorry, swoon like a what now?”

Haruhi looked up at him and didn’t say anything for a moment. Then she grabbed his tie. “I don’t really remember,” she said softly, pulling him back towards her.

Tamaki loved fireworks. There was nothing else that filled him with such happiness, such awe, or such fulfillment as watching them light up the night sky. There was nothing else that made him feel like magic was a real and tangible thing that he could grasp, should he just reach out and try.

Or he used to believe that.

Haruhi Fujioka outshined even the brightest of fireworks. If he could go back and tell his younger self who sat under a park tree in France that he would one day know an actual human being who made him feel all of those feelings and more, he probably would have imploded on the spot. Now, sometimes just kissing Haruhi was enough to make him think that maybe he might.            Could loving one person so much be normal? Maybe not, but it didn’t really matter. Tamaki was happier than he ever thought he could be. And he was perfectly alright with it never ending.

Of course, outside sources often interfered.

“Can you two get a room?”

Tamaki and Haruhi parted quickly, the latter simply moving to the other side of the couch while Tamaki yelped and jumped a few feet away from the couch almost instantly. He looked toward the door, as he caught his breath, watching Hikaru shake his head at them as the rest of the Host Club filed in.

“We sort of had one,” Haruhi replied, sounding as nonchalant as possible as she smoothed down her jacket, but Tamaki saw the blush on her cheeks.

“Apologies, we didn’t see a sign on the door,” Kyoya responded with a chuckle in her direction. His eyes then landed on Tamaki, and the humor disappeared.

Tamaki felt cold. Oh right, he had awoken the beast. He rubbed his neck awkwardly, hoping maybe Kyoya would let him live. Before fight or flight kicked in, he felt a squeeze to his hand. He looked down at Haruhi.

“I’ll say nice things about you at your funeral,” she said, smiling up at him.

He groaned. “This is abandonment, Haruhi.”

She giggled, squeezing his hand once more. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Tamaki watched her walk away, but still felt the warmth of her presence lingering somehow. It didn’t seem possible, it probably wasn’t, but he liked to think that was just another thing he loved about Haruhi. How she never stopped lighting up his life. How even when she wasn’t by his side, he felt what he considered to be magic flowing through him when he thought of her. And he could think of it as just like fireworks. Except it wasn’t.

It was better.

**Author's Note:**

> The 5 cavities I got from writing this are reasons 57-61 why I would fight Tamaki Suoh. Square up, you French nerd.  
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
